A Most Extraordinary Proceeding

Certainly, the little lad thought it so. He had never, in the whole of his brief life, heard of such an extraordinary thing before—much less had he witnessed it as he did on that memorable morning.

It must have happened over ninety years ago. The boy, whose name was William, was on a visit to his great-uncle Ferdinand who lived in the Sussex village of Ringmer. He was spoken of as “Uncle Fardy.” William always enjoyed these visits, not only because of the holiday it entailed but, also, because of Uncle Fardy’s companionship, he being a cheerful, old gentleman with a youthful heart which appealed to William in no small degree.

There was, however, a certain mystery about old Uncle Fardy which aroused William’s curiosity. It was in this wise. The old gentleman had a private room, a kind of study, and no one ever thought of entering it without first knocking on the door. His room was over the front door of the house, and every morning—immediately after breakfast—Uncle Fardy made his way to his room and locked himself in. It was understood that on no account was he to be disturbed while in his study during that half-hour or so after breakfast.

William, like most boys (to say nothing of the girls) was endowed with a fair supply of curiosity, and as the days passed, he felt increasingly curious to know what Uncle Fardy did every morning after breakfast in the little room over the front door.

As William pondered the mystery, it seemed to deepen. It must indeed be something altogether out of the ordinary, for why did the old gentleman always lock himself in? The boy was determined to solve the mystery, and where there’s a will, there’s a way—and so it proved in the present instance.

Close to the front door there grew a fine pear tree, and William after much consideration decided to climb it and from its higher branches to look through the window directly into the study.

Watching for an opportunity one morning, William climbed the tree and stretching forward he obtained an excellent view of what was going on in Uncle Fardy’s study. He saw something very different from what he expected. There was old Uncle Fardy with his head bent over a table, doing—what do you think?

He was reading a Bible on a weekday! That, in William’s eyes, was a most extraordinary proceeding. Why, thought William, the Bible is a Sunday book, and whoever would think of reading it on a week-day! In the home where William lived the Bible was never looked at excepting on a Sunday and not very much then. Yet, here was Uncle Fardy reading the Bible as though he loved doing it, and so he did. If the old gentleman had been asked why he read the Bible on a weekday, he possibly would have replied that he needed food for his soul as much as he did for his body, for did not God Himself say, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.”

Bishop Jewell, who lived in Reformation times, thus speaks of the Bible: “The Word of God is the water of life—the more ye lave it forth, the fresher it runneth. It is the fire of God’s glory—the more ye blow it, the clearer it burneth. It is the corn of the Lord’s field—the better ye grind it, the more it yieldeth. It is the bread of heaven—the more it is broken and given forth, the more it remaineth. It is the sword of the Spirit—the more it is scoured, the brighter it shineth.”

If this is so, and it certainly is, then—

Study it carefully,

Think of it prayerfully;

Deep in thy heart let its oracles dwell;

Slight not its history;

Ponder its mystery;

None can e’er prize it too fondly or well.

Divine Instructor, gracious Lord!

Be Thou for ever near;

Teach me to love Thy sacred Word,

And view my Saviour there.

I believe old Uncle Fardy went to heaven many years ago. William, too, has followed him, but he often related the incident to his son, who now passes it on to our readers.

—W.S.M.

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